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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25215175">Confessions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCatToulouse/pseuds/TheCatToulouse'>TheCatToulouse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Afterglow, Angst, Drowning, F/M, Fluff, I love angst so much so here we go, Kinda, Mason is dumb, Mentions of Smut, Near Death Experiences, Overstimulation, Sensuality, These two idiots aren't amazing at confessions but they're trying, Things are getting complicated, Unrequited Love, a lil breakup, cursing, just a little bit of - Freeform, mature just to be safe, oh boy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:48:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,261</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25215175</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCatToulouse/pseuds/TheCatToulouse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She knows that she loves him more than she has ever loved anything. She knows that she’d gladly take a bullet for him even though he’s the one with the immortality. It terrifies her, and yet she knows it will terrify him even more.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Female Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>94</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Unrequited</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It is quiet after. </p><p>The dying evening light filters in through the window, casting shadows upon quaking legs and rumpled sheets. The silence is broken only by the sound of lips being pressed to skin. Dinah’s chest heaves, her heart races, and her body trembles minutes after she’s reached her climax. Mason’s lips skim the smooth column of her neck, stopping periodically to kiss and bite and suck the skin into his mouth. There will be bruises there in the morning, and she will certainly curse him when she attempts to cover them with concealer. Now, though, she couldn’t ask him to stop even if she wanted to. She doesn’t want to – they hardly spend moments together like this. </p><p>Their trysts – when during the day – are often spent in darkened corners or in the backseat of her car. Quick, no time for cuddling or basking in the afterglow. They’re both busy, too busy to do anything more than pull up their pants and share slow, satisfied smiles before hustling off to find the rest of Unit Bravo. At night, he arrives at her door once his duties with Unit Bravo are done and she’s finished up at the station. They fall into her bed and he takes his time because it is his only chance to do so. He works her over, brings her to the edge and has her teeter there before bringing her climax rushing down upon her. By the end, she’s so worn out that the only thing she can do is fall asleep and hope he’s there in the morning when she wakes up. </p><p>Moments like these, though, are different. They’re both free of their respective responsibilities for a couple of blissful hours. He’d shown up mid-afternoon, interrupted her as she was going through paperwork, and tossed her over his shoulder and into her bed. That had been three hours ago when the sun still shown bright and she hadn’t yet been in a seemingly endless daze of bliss. During times like this they’re both awake enough to bask in it. He doesn’t leave, she doesn’t fall asleep. They touch, they sometimes exchange words. More often, they exchange much more. They’re both there, both present. </p><p><i> It feels like worship </i>, she often thinks to herself. </p><p>It was in one of those moments that she realized she loved him. It is in the current moment that she remembers she does. She’s happy her heart is still racing from their previous exertion as it provides a cover for why it would be racing now. She tugs at his hair lightly, just enough to get his attention and pulls him back up towards her face. Her lips meet his desperately, as though he hadn’t been pressed close to her for the past three hours. She kisses him like he’s the oxygen she needs to breathe, and he returns her fervor with just as much intensity. Her tongue is in his mouth, the taste of him coating her tongue in a way that is nothing short of intoxicating. </p><p>Her hands move from his hair to down his shoulders, scraping her nails lightly against her bicep in a way that has him grinding his hips into hers. How can she want it, want him so badly? She’s never wanted anyone this badly before – she’s not sure if she’s ever wanted anything this badly before. And, oh, she wants. She wants him more desperately than she can possibly imagine – her thoughts keep her up at night. She pictures him grinning at her from her bed one morning, him napping on her couch, him using her shower. Domestic fluff that makes her heart ache so deeply she wonders if anyone has ever died from daydreaming.</p><p>Lust is easier. That type of want – although recurring – can be cured easily, and he’s always more than willing. This time, though, feels different. She clings to him like he might pull away and never come back, and his hands grip the bedding like vices. It was easier before when she could chalk it all up to lust. In those moments of blind pleasure their relationship did seem much simpler. It doesn’t feel simple anymore, it feels intense. Intimate. So much so that it scares her because she knows things he doesn’t. She knows that she loves him more than she has ever loved anything. She knows that she’d gladly take a bullet for him even though he’s the one with the immortality. It terrifies her, and yet she knows it will terrify him even more. </p><p>His mouth is hot against hers until it isn’t. Dinah feels his smirk before she sees it, and when she finally peels her eyes open to look up at him, he looks just as dangerous as the first day she met him. He balances himself above her by resting his weight on his forearm, his free hand slides down her belly and rests just above her hip. </p><p>“Trying to start something, sweetheart?” </p><p>She is. Partly because – despite her believing it shouldn’t be physically possible – she’s still wet for him. Mostly, though, because she knows their time together is coming to an end. He’d told her he had time to spare before patrol that night, and with the sky darkening it is only a matter of time before he leaves to return to his responsibilities. Still, she knows that sex is the best way to tempt him into sparing her just a few more minutes of his presence. It’s pathetic, and she’s glad that he’s too emotionally distant to see her for what she is: a lovesick fool. </p><p>She doesn’t respond, just looks at him through the darkness of her lashes and he’s upon her once more. His teeth pull at her lower lip and she whines. His hand cups her sex gently before he drags a firm finger over her clit. She nearly yelps, her hips instantly jerking away from his fingers. She’s so sensitive at this point that the pleasure is almost entirely overshadowed by the pain. She knows she’ll be so sore tomorrow it’ll be hard to sit, and she knows he’ll be silently smug.<br/>
His hand pulls away immediately, slides to her thigh and gives it a reassuring squeeze. She can feel how much he still wants her – she never ceases to be amazed at just how short his refractory period is. Vampire stamina and all.  </p><p>He disengages from her mouth again and presses a kiss to her flushed cheek. </p><p>“Seems like you won’t be able to finish it, though.” The words are spoken gently. There is no pressure or disappointment. His gaze is exceedingly fond, so much so that it’s primarily what fuels those dangerous domestic fantasies she’s become so prone to. She reminds herself that she’s seen him look at the rest of Unit Bravo like that when he thinks no one is looking. She is hardly special. </p><p>He reluctantly rolls off of her, or, at least, he tries to. Her grip on his arms keeps him from being successful, and he releases a throaty chuckle. </p><p>“Did I fuck you that good?” The words are whispered, and they slide across her skin like silk. “Hm? You feeling that insatiable?” </p><p>He presses a kiss to her lips, this one so slow it takes her breath away. His mouth moves expertly against hers – he knows every curve, every corner. He knows what makes her toes curl and what has her gasping. It’s over much to soon, and this time, when he rolls off of her, she lets him go. He doesn’t go very far, though, just lays on the bed next to her and stretches. The sheet sits low on his hips, and in the dying of the light she sees the smattering of freckles that linger on his abdomen. Her lips have kissed him there. There and much lower. He lifts the arm closest to her and his head lolls to the side to face her. Mason raises a single eyebrow at her, his gaze darting between his arm and her.</p><p>She rolls to her side and moves closer to him, lays her head against his bicep and slings an arm across his waist. Her fingers trace his flank gently, and if the touch aggravates his hyper-senses he doesn’t let on. She often wonders in these moments if he’s humoring her – if he knows that she craves physical contact and allows it even though it brings him discomfort. </p><p>“I’m not tired.” Dinah states. </p><p>She feels his chest rumble with laughter, and she hides her smile against his bicep. </p><p>“Probably means I didn’t do my job well-enough.” He quips.</p><p>She rolls her eyes. “I can barely feel my legs, Mason. I feel like I just had a three-hour long orgasm.”</p><p>She doesn’t need to see his face to know he’s smirking. She knows he can feel the way she’s grinning like an idiot against his arm. Silence falls between them; as the room gets darker, she does feel her eyes get heavier. Her hand moves lazily against his side, and his breath has evened out completely. </p><p>“I have to go on patrol,” he says. He makes no move to get up and get dressed. Just continues to lie next to her. His fingers draw circles into the skin of her shoulder, and her chest feels like it’s about to explode. She wonders how he doesn’t feel it: her complete adoration for him. She knows that Unit Bravo – Mason included – are much too polite to look too much into how she’s feeling to avoid infringing on her privacy. Still, she feels as though she’s brimming with so much emotion that he ought to feel something even if he doesn’t mean to. </p><p>Dinah hums an affirmation but makes no move to get up. She watches as his eyes flutter closed, a look of complete and utter piece falling upon his face. It’s rare that she ever gets to see him look so vulnerable. He looks younger, face smoothed and free of creases and scowls. </p><p>Completely serene. </p><p>“Couldn’t you call to see if anyone else can do it?” She asks eventually. She’s hesitant to break the silence, but even more nervous that he may get up and leave and break it himself. </p><p>“No.” his eyes don’t open. “They’re all busy tonight.” </p><p>“You’re busy.” The words come out sounding more like a whine than she intended. </p><p>The corner of his mouth perks upwards just the slightest bit. “You’re warm.” </p><p>He says it so simply, a fact. Yet it warms her all the same – she’s never felt butterflies this intense since, well, ever. Mason is unabashedly direct in everything he does. He’s forward, so suggestive he borders on crass, and yet she’s never as flustered as she is now. His guard is down and he’s more relaxed than she’s ever seen him. She burns and she aches and she hurts worse than she’s ever hurt before. Her heart feels as though it’s in a vice, her eyes well up without her meaning for them to. </p><p>He cracks open a single eye to look at her. “Your heart is racing.” </p><p>“Is it?” She croaks out, attempts to bury her face against his arm. </p><p>He grunts out an affirmation and rolls onto his side to face her. Their faces are so close – her nose brushes his and she can see the flecks of green in his grey eyes. He says nothing, but she can see mild concern in the furrow of his brow.  </p><p>It’s funny, how attuned he seems to be to her. How easily his very presence can soothe away any fears she may have. When she has nightmares, it is his eyes that fight away the darkness. </p><p>Perhaps that is why she chooses to be honest. Because those eyes are so close to her own, and because she lives each day wondering when they will disappear. Their lives are dangerous, and even though her expiration date is much closer than Mason’s, she worries. She remembers seeing him injured in his bed after they saved Sanja, how weak he was despite his adamant denial that he was in pain at all. The bandages, the blood. Seeing him unconscious on the ground haunts her despite the fact that he’s a vampire. </p><p>More than that, she is so tired of being dishonest. So tired of skirting around her feelings, prolonging a fate she knows is inevitable. Without even meaning to, her hand rises up to cup his cheek. His stubble prickles against her palm, but it doesn’t deter her. </p><p>“Can I tell you something?” She whispers. </p><p>Her room is almost entirely dark now. She can barely see his face, yet she’s hyper-aware that he can see her perfectly. Vampire senses and all. He says nothing, just gives a slight nod of his head that she feels rather than sees. </p><p>She closes her eyes, breathes out. </p><p>“It’s starting to feel complicated.” </p><p>He stops breathing. </p><p>The room is eerily silent, filled with only the sound of her quickened breath. She opens her eyes. In the dark she can just make out the fact that his lips are parted in surprise, the flash of his grey eyes. </p><p>“Ok,” he says. His voice is more unnerved than she’s ever heard. “Ok.”</p><p>Mason rolls onto his back and she sits up immediately. Dread pools deep in her gut, it seeps into her blood stream and poisons it. Her hands are fisted in the sheet to keep it gathered around her, and yet they shake against the cloth. </p><p>“Ok?” her voice is even, so much so that it surprises her. She feels on the verge of shattering. </p><p>She can see the bob of his Adam’s apple in the pale moonlight. </p><p>“Then we should…” He trails off mid-sentence. </p><p>She turns away so that her back is facing him. If he sees her face he will see too much. She knows how she looks – eyes wide and glassy, lip trembling. He will see just how complicated it’s become.</p><p>“Stop.” He finishes. </p><p>Then we should stop. </p><p> “Sex shouldn’t be complicated.” She says quietly, more to herself than him.</p><p>She remembers his words. She remembers every time he told her that he wanted her body and nothing else. She doesn’t resent him for it – he’s always been forthright with his desires. Despite it all she still fell in love with him. </p><p>“Dinah…” She hears him shift, feels a gently hand brush along her shoulder. </p><p>“It’s ok.” She says. </p><p>And it is ok. She will not be okay, but there will be time for that. Now is not the time – he has never resented her for saying no or resisting one of his many advances. He’s understood, respected her boundaries. She will respect his as well. </p><p>People are different – they want different things. He always says that. Never before has it been so true.</p><p>She leans into his touch despite herself. </p><p>He doesn’t patrol – he stays with her all night. They do not exchange anymore words. Rather, they lie next to each other and touch. Never sexually despite the fact that they are both naked. His hand rubs slow circles in the space between her shoulder blades. Her fingers trace his knuckles. She plays with loose pieces of his hair and he rests his head against her chest. They memorize every part of each other because things will be different in the morning. There will be no more trysts in the daytime, no sneaking off before patrol and no slipping into his room after nightmares. </p><p>She doesn’t fall asleep until the first rays of sunlight pierce the darkness of her room. Even then, hours later she wakes when he leaves. She keeps her eyes closed, but she knows he knows she’s awake. She listens as he pulls on his clothes and takes slow steps out of her apartment. When she hears her front door close, she waits thirty minutes. Thirty minutes for him to be gone far enough that he can’t hear her. </p><p>It is only then that she lets herself cry.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Interlude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>She turns her head slightly, just enough to look at him for the first time in two weeks.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Detective Dinah Kingston dies at exactly 2:47 p.m. </p>
<p>Twenty minutes prior, Mason is on his fifth cigarette of the hour. He has been studiously ignoring the looks Felix has been sending his way, choosing instead to stare up at the sky and try to focus on the way the smoke fills his lungs. It doesn’t settle him in the same way it used to, doesn’t numb his senses in the same way it did. He takes a deeper drag, as though the smoke will seep into his brain and clear out all the conflict he’s been plagued with as of late. </p>
<p>Felix waves a hand dramatically in front of his face, fanning away any offending smoke impeding his personal space. </p>
<p>“C’mon, this is excessive, even for you.” He inserts a rather forced cough to get his point across. </p>
<p>Mason spares him a single glance before returning his gaze to the sky above. It’s hot – infuriatingly so. It’s only the beginning of summer and yet the sun blazes down upon them, the shade of the trees and the gentleness of the breeze the only respite from the heat. Mason has never been a fan of human folklore concerning vampires, but he’s never been more worried about bursting into flames ift he exposes himself to direct sunlight. His shirt is already clinging to his skin in a way that sets every nerve in his body on edge, and with every movement he resists the urge to gripe about the heat. </p>
<p>Better to just continue smoking to spare everyone else from his misery. </p>
<p>Felix releases a deep sigh, kicks at a stone at his feet, and crosses his arms. He’s removed his hat and the purple vest he was wearing earlier and slung them over a rock. Mason mentally notes where they are – knowing Felix, he’ll leave it there and forget only to go into a panic a month later when he finds them missing. </p>
<p>Mason squeezes his eyes shut and releases an annoyed sigh. “Spit it out.” </p>
<p>“You’re mad,” Felix states, straightforward as ever. </p>
<p>“Why wouldn’t I be?” Mason barks out a laugh devoid of humor. “It’s smoldering outside and we’re stuck looking for fucking mermaids.” </p>
<p>He wishes he were exaggerating. Wayhaven PD had received a string of calls reporting strange occurrences happening around Wayhaven’s lake. Some of the callers reported seeing the tail of an unusually large fish, others reported seeing a naked woman lounging by the lake. The first called it in because they were worried about the lake’s delicate ecosystem, the latter called it in because they were worried about public indecency and the effect it would have on their children. Regardless, The Agency had sent Unit Bravo out to check it out. </p>
<p>Mason still doesn't understand why they all have to be there– Mermaid’s were laid back, almost to a fault, and they were generally easy to deal with. </p>
<p>Felix snorts. “Never seen you so unenthusiastic about potentially seeing a half-naked woman.”</p>
<p>Mason releases a plume of smoke and remains silent.  He feels more than unenthusiastic. Miserable is the word he’d use to describe himself if he was forced to choose. </p>
<p>He hasn’t seen Dinah in two weeks. </p>
<p>Two weeks since he’s been able to press himself against her, two weeks since he’s heard the sound of her voice.'</p>
<p>Two weeks since the night she’d confessed to him that whatever they had was beginning to veer away from simple and into waters that were decidedly not.</p>
<p>Two weeks since he broke it off with her. </p>
<p>There has been no need to see her, and why should he? He’s had lovers confess to him before, he’s had them whisper love confessions in hallways and he’s had them ask him on dates. Every time he turned them down, every time he reminded them of his intentions. He’s always been straightforward, has never lied about what he wants out of a relationship. If you could even call casual sex a relationship. When everything is said and done, he moves forward. He doesn’t spare them another thought, doesn’t worry about hurt feelings. He moves on, moves ahead, pursues whoever has piqued his interest next. </p>
<p>It was routine, and one that was easy enough to follow. </p>
<p>Now, that ease is eluding him. He wants to see her. He wants to show up at her doorstep unannounced and he wants to walk her home. He wants to look for reasons. Wants to find some semblance of fucking reason that would explain why he wants to go out of his way to see her. Just to hear the sound of her voice would be a blessing, would ease his suffering to a level that was tolerable. </p>
<p>He’d received a single text from her since that day. Exactly eight words and a smiley face. </p>
<p>
  <i>It’s ok. I just need a little space :)</i>
</p>
<p>He’s read it what feels like thousands of times. The smiley face is what gets him every time – the way he knows she included it to assure him that she has no ill feelings towards him. The way she took his feelings into account, tried to assure him that she wasn’t mad. As though he hadn’t just rejected her hours prior. It's so wholly Dinah that it makes him want to damn himself to hell for being the bastard who hurt her. </p>
<p>He feels more like a bastard than he ever has before, and so he smokes. He stubs out the remains of his cigarette on the tree behind him and moves to pull out his sixth. He knows she’s somewhere in these woods with Nate and Adam, the latter haven gone to the station to accompany her so that she could be a part of the search. She likes to take part in their investigations generally, but especially when it concerns the safety of the people of Wayhaven. Even now, as the smoke dissipates and flees his lungs, he can almost hear her. If he focuses enough, closes his eyes and listens he knows he’ll be able to hear the sound of her voice. Maybe even a laugh if Nate is feeling particularly jovial. </p>
<p>He lights up his newest cigarette and takes a long drag, lets the smoke buzz in his lungs and his mind. Let’s it numb his senses just enough. If he hears her, he doesn’t know what he’ll do.  Doesn’t know what he’ll feel. If she does laugh does that mean she’s moved on? Why does the thought of her doing so bother him so much? Shouldn’t he be happy that she wouldn’t be pining after him anymore? That she’d go onto find someone who’d give her what she was actually looking for? He imagines it, her with a faceless stranger. Holding hands and doing whatever mind-numbingly romantic things that couples do. He imagines her whispering confessions into their skin, and her feelings actually being returned. By someone who wasn’t him. </p>
<p>The cigarette between his finger’s snaps in half. The lit portion falling to the foliage under his feet. </p>
<p>“Woah!” Felix is quick to run over to him and stomp on the remnants harder than necessary. “I know you’re in a bad mood and all, but a forest fire is the last thing I want to deal with today.” </p>
<p>Mason stares at the filter in his hand in disbelief before shaking his head and pocketing the remnants. He pointedly ignores the stare that Felix is giving him, but he can still feel the amber of his teammate’s eyes burning holes into his face. </p>
<p>“I know you’re probably wondering about Dinah… ” </p>
<p>“I’m not.” A lie. Not something he does often, but he doesn’t think he can tolerate the unyielding heat along with Felix’s pestering. </p>
<p>“She’s doing okay.” Felix continues. “When I saw her last week, she wasn’t a crying mess.” </p>
<p>There’s that word again. <i>Ok</i>. It’s okay. She’s okay. Funny – Mason has never felt less okay in his whole life. </p>
<p>“<i>You</i> actually seem to be the one doing terribly.” </p>
<p>“If I wanted to be psychoanalyzed, I would’ve gone with Nate.” Mason pushes himself off the tree he was leaning on with a snarl. </p>
<p>With every passing day he regrets telling his teammates what happened. It seemed inevitable, something that had needed to be done quickly, like ripping off a band-aid. It was the morning after she confessed, he had been getting chewed out by Adam for forgoing his patrol duties.  </p>
<p>“Patrolling is imperative to maintaining Wayhaven’s safety,” Adam said. </p>
<p>Despite what most assumed, Mason wasn’t one to slough off his responsibilities. It had been the first time he’d been on the receiving end of one of Adam’s lectures. Prior, he’d mostly just watched when Felix got chewed out by the commanding agent. </p>
<p>“I told you I wouldn’t object, but if your ‘fling’ with Detective Kingston is going to get in the way of your ability to perform your duties then – ”</p>
<p>“There’s no more fling.” </p>
<p>Something inside him snapped then, as though he hadn’t realized the depth of what had happened. He’d taken it for granted, assumed that as long as she was there beside him, they’d be able to “fling” as he had had so curtly put it all those weeks ago, for as long as he had wanted. Somewhere along the way he had forgotten that she might eventually want something more. Her time was a lot more limited than his, she didn’t have eternity to entertain his more carnal desires all while ignoring her own feelings. </p>
<p>Adam had spluttered and ended his speech in the most dignified way he could possibly manage. He knew that his words had gained Nate and Felix’s attention, could feel both of their eyes on him, mapping out his every expression. Nate was always more than willing to help him dissect his feelings, but Mason had been adamant. He didn’t want to talk about it. Talking about it would drag it out, made it harder to get up and move on. Nate had respected that, had disappeared for the rest of the day. Mason assumed he had gone to offer comfort to Dinah. That was good, she deserved it more than he did. </p>
<p>Felix, on the other hand, hadn’t been quite as respectful. He’d actually been quite angry initially, worried that Dinah would hate them all. Worried that Mason had treated her just as another conquest. His anger had fizzled in the most recent days, especially after he’d seen Dinah and discovered that Mason hadn’t cruelly left her in the dust, heartbroken and alone. </p>
<p>“I just have to ask,” Felix says. </p>
<p>Mason begins to walk away from him, but he can hear Felix’s footsteps as he follows behind him. </p>
<p>“Why you haven’t found someone new to fool around with, you know?” Felix asks. </p>
<p>Mason’s shoulder's tense at the question, and he can physically feel his irritation with the younger vampire building. He wonders if Adam divided up the team this way to punish him further. </p>
<p>“Drop it.” He all but barks. </p>
<p>Felix is at his side now, keeping pace with him. “Just wondering. That new witch they hired at The Agency had her eyes all over you the other day.” </p>
<p>Mason grits his teeth. He’s well-aware, even more so aware that the witch in question was beyond attractive. That it would be all too easy; a few smoldering looks and some words Nate wouldn’t approve of would do it. Yet, the entire idea of falling into bed with her was entirely unappealing to him. </p>
<p>“Not my type.”</p>
<p>Felix’s laugh startles some nearby birds, causing them to take flight. “Everyone is your type.” </p>
<p>He’s got him there. </p>
<p>“I don’t want to, ok? Can we drop it?” He sounds near pleading now. Wants nothing more than to flee back to the Warehouse’s air conditioning and fall into his bed. </p>
<p>Felix’s grin tells him that dropping it is the last thing the young vampire wants to do. <br/>“Sure, sure.” He shrugs his shoulders. </p>
<p>Minutes go by, the only noise filling the air being the sound of twigs breaking underneath their shoes. Mason feels the tension in his shoulders begin to ease. </p>
<p>“Dinah’s just human, y’know.” Felix says suddenly. </p>
<p>Mason’s head whips to the side, lips curled back into a snarl, and vitriol-filled words ready on his tongue. Felix’s somber look stops him. </p>
<p>“I know you don’t want to hear it, but it would be better for you to figure out what your feeling sooner rather than later. She doesn’t have time to waste like we do.” </p>
<p>Without meaning to, Mason freezes. He stops walking and stares at Felix who continues ahead like he hadn’t said anything at all. </p>
<p>He wants to say something, anything, but words seem to have left him. </p>
<p>Felix pauses and turns back to face him. His mouth opens, but before he can speak Adam emerges from the clearing ahead of them. </p>
<p>“There you two are,” he says. </p>
<p>Adam appears seemingly unaware of the sudden tension that’s filled the air between the two. “We’re ready to end our investigation for now. Nate and Detective Kingston are searching the lake’s perimeter a final time, and Unit Bravo in its entirety will patrol tonight to make sure nothing suspicious takes place.”</p>
<p>The serious expression on Felix’s face slips away, and in its place a grin erupts. </p>
<p>“Sounds like a plan.” He stretches and yawns. “Might take a little swim in the lake if no mermaids turn up. ‘M boiling alive” </p>
<p>Mason swears he feels Nate’s shout before he hears it. Swears his bones shudder and vibrate before the sound actually hits them. </p>
<p>“Dinah!” </p>
<p>He’s moving before Nate can even finish shouting, his hyper-senses in overdrive as he navigates effortlessly over foliage and fallen trees. The landscape moves past him in a blur – he doesn’t focus on any of it, can only focus on Nate’s voice, his rapid heart beat and the fact that he can’t locate Dinah’s at all. </p>
<p>He’s at the lake within seconds, Felix and Adam hot on his trail. He skids to a stop at the shore, eyes furiously scanning the perimeter for any sign of the detective. He catches sight of Nate kneeling in the sand, the calm waves of the lake lapping mirror inches away from his knees. His eyes are wide in fear, and Mason can smell the blood from where the sand he’s clutching has bit into his skin. He’s muttering to himself, repeating the words “I’m sorry” over and over again. </p>
<p>“Where is she?” Mason hurries over to Nate’s side and grabs his shoulder perhaps a bit too violently. He can’t really bring himself to care, he feels numb and overstimulated all at once. The world seems to be rushing around him, everything to bright and too loud and too much. Yet, in his mind he can only bring himself to focus on her. </p>
<p>His rough hand seems to snap Nate out of whatever trance he had fallen into. His head turns quickly to look at Mason and he tumbles over slightly as he jerks away from him. Even then, he can see the way his shoulders relax, the way the terror slips away just slightly. </p>
<p>“The water – she got pulled underneath by something.” </p>
<p>Felix is in the water before Nate finishes, and Mason is quick to follow. He wades into the water just enough that it’s up to his ankles before he doubles over. The water is cold – so cold that it feels as though millions of needles are piercing his skin. Still, he forces himself forward – if he can just submerge himself enough, he may be able to feel her, locate her somewhere in the icy depths of the lake. His wet clothes cling to his skin, and he’s shivering so violently he’s not sure if he’ll actually be able to move once he’s fully submerged. He’s been in the water mere seconds, and he’s already incapacitated. </p>
<p>Useless. </p>
<p>Just as he’s about to go under the water he sees Felix break the surface of the lake, gasping for air and carrying a body in his arms. </p>
<p>Dinah. </p>
<p>Felix is quick to dart out of the water and lay her down on the rocky shore. Mason speeds out of the water behind him, still shivering violently but not in the right state of mind to care. </p>
<p>He hasn’t seen her in two weeks. </p>
<p>Two weeks since he’s last seen the blue of her eyes, the gentle curve of her smile. He has forgotten the appearance of lovers in weeks, sometimes days. They are always fleeting, indulgences that he can lose himself in for a few hours. </p>
<p>He remembers Dinah; he remembers the small birth mark above her lip, the curve of her eyebrows, the gently slope of her nose. He remembers the flush of her cheeks and the way the darkness of her hair looks as it falls against her skin. He barely recognizes the woman at his feet. He falls to his knees next to her, shaking as he reaches out to touch her pale skin. Her lips are blue, face paler than he’s ever seen. Gone is the livelihood that seemingly lights up her entire being. In its place there is nothing. He doesn’t hear a heartbeat, doesn’t see her chest rise and fall. There is silence – ironic, in that regard. How many times had he snarked at her, told her he didn’t want to talk, or that he preferred the silence? </p>
<p>He's barely aware that Nate is moving him aside. He watches as the other man springs to action, seemingly rife with purpose once again. Mason can hear Adam barking orders behind him, but he cannot comprehend them at all. That silence is overwhelming him, has him gasping for air and clutching at the sand despite it’s excruciating grit feels against his skin. Nate is performing CPR, pressing against her chest rhythmically before pressing his mouth to hers and blowing air into her lungs. </p>
<p>Mason feels sick. He feels everything, he has never been so overwhelmed by his own emotion. Has never wanted to rip his heart out and bury it deep within the earth. It hurts. He aches, clutches at his chest and watches frozen in fear. He knows that feeling well – fear. It has burrowed deep within him, wiggles out when it catches the slightest glimpse of light to remind him that it’s there. </p>
<p>The compression are seemingly endless, the sound of the lake is loud in his ears. He is absorbed by the squelch of the fabric as Nate tears it so that he can better access her chest. He hears the air as it fills her lungs and is rejected. He can hear Felix panting behind him. Adam has called for a medic, and he’s reminded of that time so many moons ago. She was wet then, too, covered in blood. On the verge of death, but even then it had not felt so dangerously final. He hadn’t felt as deliriously fucking lost as he does now. </p>
<p>Then, he hears <i>it</i>. The slightest beat of her heart before the sound drums in his ears, slowly, erratically. Her eyes flutter open and she gasps before promptly gagging. Instinctively she rolls onto her side, spitting and coughing up vast amounts of water. Her entire body shudders violently as she vomits up murky water, clutching blindly at the ground beneath her. </p>
<p>He’s paralyzed. Every ragged breath she takes, every violent shake of her body reverberates through him. When she finally stops and slumps back to the ground gasping for air, he finally moves. He’s on her before he even realizes it; he crawls to her side and presses a hand against the soaked fabric of her shirt as she coughs and splutters. He vaguely realizes he’s rubbing circles against her back, but he is hyperaware of the fact that one of her hands is clutching his thigh like a life line. </p>
<p>When she’s expelled the water from her lungs she stays on all fours, shuddering violently and taking in gasping breaths. </p>
<p>“I-It’s… Not a… mermaid.” She eventually manages to speak and her voice is weak and worn ragged. </p>
<p>He hears Felix’s disbelieving laugh of relief, hears Adam expel the breath he’d been holding, here’s Nate’s breathy, scared laugh. </p>
<p>She turns her head slightly, just enough to look at him for the first time in two weeks. She’s dripping wet, shivering, and her lips are blue and probably dripping a mix of saliva and bile. Yet, she still manages to give him a bright smile. One that assures him that she was and is still okay. </p>
<p>“Dinah,” her name slips through his lips like a prayer. Solemn, reverent. </p>
<p>Terrified. </p>
<p>He recognizes it then. That feeling that has simmered beneath the surface, that has ignited his blood at tugged at whatever wall has been built around his heart. It almost hurts in its force and his body seemingly throbs with the knowledge that he loves her. That he has loved her and he’s not sure when it started, but he knows its there now. It is there along with his fear and desperation and panic.</p>
<p>Love. </p>
<p>He loves her. </p>
<p>“Dinah, I-”</p>
<p>“Don’t.” The word comes out a whisper. The ghost of her previous smile remains on her lips. “Don’t say i-it now b-because I almost d-died.”</p>
<p>Her skin is soaked, glistening under the afternoon sun, but he still sees the tear as it slips out of the corner of her eye and disappears down her cheek.</p>
<p>When she blacks out and collapses to the ground, he himself nearly bursts into tears.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Alright, Alright, Alright. I know I said this was a two-parter, but it turns out that was a lie. Chapter Two took so long because I'd actually written the majority of it about two months back, but couldn't decide whether or not I wanted to change it all together. Welp, I decided in the end to keep it and add one more chapter, so this whole story will total three chapters. Hope you enjoyed, see ya soon!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh my god I love angst so much. Inject this shit straight into my veins. Angst confessions let's GO. This is a two parter, keep an eye out for the second chapter.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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